WTF 2020?

We spent most of 2020 shielding or semi shielding, not going too far beyond our back garden, nor seeing many people. I love London and its crowds, noises and occasional chaos, the fact that somewhere is always open, the late night transport. But living with a “clinically extremely vulnerable” person during a pandemic certainly takes the edge off the things you once loved. During the year, I became pre-occupied with quiet and space – and quiet spaces – the birds and flowers in our garden, and the remarkably empty sky.

Anyway, here’s my year in pictures and contrived headings.

January, don’t go

From my seat at one of my last games at Spurs, a 2-1 win over Norwich. I don’t usually take pictures at the match, but am glad I took this one, as I imagine it will be some time before I’m back there.

February made me shiver

As far as I can tell, my last ‘normal’ day – a day when I wasn’t unduly worried about covid – was 21 February. It was so normal that I didn’t take a photo of it, but we had lunch with a friend and our biggest concern was that he had a cold, which can be dangerous for John. Missing those days when we just worried about colds.

Other normal happenings this month included going to the office, near to where someone had created the Lonely Glove Society in an underpass at Surrey Quays.

Brides of March

My niece got married just before the first lockdown, and in the week that guidelines for weddings changed. As her plans were continually changing, so were ours. I was going with John (clinically extremely vulnerable) and my 88-year-old mum, and the stress of deciding the right and safe thing to do, while trying to support my niece, was one of the most upsetting parts of the year.

Over the course of 10 days we agonisingly changed our plans one by one: first, we wouldn’t be hugging anyone; then, we’d no longer stay overnight at the venue; then, we wouldn’t stay for the evening party; then we arranged to  have our meal on a separate table, a good distance from others; then we wouldn’t stay for the meal; mum and I would sit at the back of the ceremony while John would stay in the car. Finally, the day before the wedding – after talking to a couple of medical friends – we decided that the three of us would stay in the car, and the wedding party, including photographer, would come out to see us. 

So, we dressed up, decorated the car, made a banner from a pillow case, took some prosecco, and confetti hastily made from mum’s artificial flowers, and thoroughly enjoyed a safari wedding.

I’ll remember April and smile

We were fortunate that friends were able to get essential groceries for us until John’s shielding status put us on the priority list for online deliveries. I mentioned in passing in a blog post that it didn’t feel right to ask friends to get us the ‘real’ essentials of Pringles and cakes, and a few days later these arrived on our doorstep, thanks to our lovely colleague, George. It truly is the little things.

May your hope give us hope

We finally ventured beyond our back garden – for which we are incredibly grateful in this of all years – to see what was happening in central London – not much if Whitehall was anything to go by.

In those heavy days in June

Great motorbiking weather(vane) to help us dream of better days while in the back garden.

Richmond Park was closed to cars, except for one of the car parks for those with disabled parking blue badges. Lots of quiet, lots of space. The joy that a blue badge brings is tempered only by remembering why we need it.

July, July! 

Another celebration in the car. This time John’s birthday. We’d planned a distanced picnic with some family, our first social event since March. We spent it in a rainy car park.

This month we became desperate to see something beyond a small area of south west London. The big sky, sea and shingle of Dungeness was a huge boost.

First day in August

I spent a lot of time on the FlightRadar website (don’t judge me). Planes had become pretty rare on the usually moderately busy flight path above our garden, so I was unduly excited whenever I saw one, and wanted to know what they were doing and where they were going.

For about two weeks, I became expert in estimating altitude and destination, the only new skill I acquired in lockdown.

When there were no planes overhead, I checked out what was happening in other parts of the skies. Just what was this RAF plane doing above the North Sea?

September when it comes

After listening to a government announcement on the rule of six, I went to find out how the news had been received by people at our local common. The sun was setting on the circus. Send in the clowns.

October and the trees are stripped bare

For the first time since March, I travelled by train into central London. For the first time since February, I had lunch at an actual restaurant with an actual friend. Was the South Bank always this quiet? In retrospect, it would have been fine to do this a month or two earlier, when it was less likely to rain, but shielding with a vulnerable person makes for a lot of caution.

Late November

This wasn’t the most uplifting picture to be looking at in a hospital waiting room, so I hummed Joy Division tunes to keep myself cheerful. 

If we make it through December

Our annual Christmas chess games never made it into a Netflix series, despite our offer. Think I lacked the outfits. Not saying who won this year.